The Father
by melanie39
Summary: Precedes Ryan's father being arrested for armed robbery and before they move to Chino. It tells the family's story from Papa Atwood's point of view. Finished story.
1. Default Chapter

The Father Chapter One 

Fresno 1992

He walked into the kitchen and surveyed the chaos. This morning's breakfast dishes lay unattended at the table, the cereal stuck rock hard to the bowls, the milk in the opened carton soured by the midday heat. A sticky damp grey cloth sat abandoned on the side next to a spilt tin of concentrated orange juice. The debris of a young child's attempt to make a sandwich lay nearby. He opened the near empty refrigerator door to retrieve the last beer from the six-pack he had treated himself to after a weekend of back breaking overtime. Gone... S.o.B. He slammed the refrigerator door good and hard.

The house was eerily quiet. He pushed open the door to the living room. The room was dark, save the flickering TV in the corner. On the couch, lay his wife of nine years in an alcohol-induced sleep. At her feet slept his younger son, curled up, thumb in mouth, his unkempt hair, bleached blond by the sun, covering his eyes.

He watched him as he slept, five years old, wearing his beloved Spiderman pyjamas, washed out and faded, a charitable hand me down from Mrs Martinez across the street. Ryan loved those pyjamas, had to be prized away from them each morning with promises of a Spiderman/ Green Goblin re enactment when he got home from work. An unopened storybook sat on the floor, alongside an empty beer can and the remnants of a bottle of vodka.

Jim Atwood picked up his sleeping son and carried him to his bed. He placed him down gently and covered him with the blanket. Two solemn blue eyes blinked up at him.

"I was waiting for our game," he whispered.

Jim smiled regretfully, "Sorry son, had to work late. I promise tomorrow ok?"

Ryan cast his eyes downward. He already knew, tomorrow never comes.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

As he stood beside his younger son, Jim Atwood reflected. When had his life started to spiral out of control?

Was it at sixteen, when after six months of dating and five months of sleeping together, Dawn had announced that she was pregnant? He still remembered the ice-cold feeling that drained through his body that day. His hopes and dreams extinguished like a light. He had done the right thing. His teachers were disappointed when he dropped out; they had had such high hopes for him. It wasn't often that they taught a child of his ability in this school. Most kids in his high school had an apprenticeship at the local factory as their goal in life. His teachers had said that college was not out of the question. It was now.

Was it after Trey was born, when they struggled to look after a baby when they were barely grown themselves? The daily tussle to pay rent and bills and to buy groceries meant dealing with their finances became like building a house of cards, one small mistake and it would all come crashing down. Robbing Peter to pay Paul, borrowing more here, there. Everything was a balancing act.

After Ryan arrived Dawn was sick for months. Jim couldn't quite grasp what was wrong but she cried at the slightest thing, seemed incapable of making simple decisions and sat for hours in a trance like state. He would return from work to find Trey hungry and dirty and the baby screaming inconsolably. He helped when he could but he was holding down two jobs, running to catch up as the debts mounted.

Back in the living room, Jim mulled over his thoughts. Would he have done things differently at sixteen? Maybe he should have persuaded Dawn to have an abortion, maybe put the baby up for adoption? No. He treasured his children and the memories they had given him. Treys first smile, Ryan's first halting steps, their first words. No matter what his life was like, he couldn't imagine it without them.


	3. Chapter Three

Thanks for the reviews, especially to Elzed who warned me that reading fan fiction would make me itching to write. She was right. 

Disclaimer: I own very little and the little I do own does not include the OC or it's characters.

Chapter Three 

When Ryan turned one year old, the Atwood family's life picked up. Jim secured a steady laboring job at the local cement works. It was hot and dusty work, grueling and backbreaking at times. However, because of the nature of the work, the pay was good and the hours were regular. This enabled him to spend time with his two sons. He enjoyed taking them to the park, playing soccer with Trey and pushing little Ryan on the swings, so high that he squealed in delight, begging for more.

Jim's reliability did not go unnoticed at work and soon he was promoted to Foreman. He really felt that the Atwood luck was beginning to change. Even Dawn seemed to have pulled herself together, cooking regular meals and making sure the kids were well turned out, even if it was still in hand me downs. Jim would return home from work each evening, help Trey with his homework and read Ryan endless Thomas the Tank stories. The little boy spent his day in the backyard observing the goods trains as they chugged past on their way to Fresno railroad station. He had already told his Dad that he wanted to be a train driver when he grew up.

Trey was thriving on the attention from his father; loving the times they spent playing one on one in the backyard. He was a good kid, even fairly patient with his younger sibling, which is never easy for an eight year old. As Ryan grew from toddler to a pre schooler, Trey would sit with him at the kitchen table, feeding his desire to learn by teaching him his letters and numbers.

Ryan learnt quickly, his grasp for reading and writing beyond his years. He would beg Dawn constantly to take him to the public library where he could indulge his love of books. Eager at first, she would sit him on her knee as they negotiated the public transport system and they would spend an hour or so delving into the book boxes for Ryan's favorite stories. Then they would rush home, just before Trey arrived back from school.

But by the time Ryan hit four, Dawn had bored of doing the Mom thing. She began relieving the tedium of her life by drinking and playing cards with the neighbors, while Ryan amused himself in the yard, playing in the dust with his Spiderman figures. Sometimes he felt a little lonely and wished Trey was home from school, but he was a sweet natured kid and seemed content with the attention he received from his brother and father.

In the August of 1991 the Atwood luck turned on its head.


	4. Chapter Four

Thanks for such positive reviews; I've never done anything like this before. Sorry Lavenderangel, there is no Theresa because they met when Ryan's family moved to Chino. Also many thanks to Mandy for the advice and editing.

Chapter Four

Ryan sat on the concrete porch, blinking from the hot afternoon sunshine. His head had begun to feel a little fuzzy and he couldn't work out why. He rubbed his eyes with the grubby sleeve of his shirt and padded barefoot across the street to the neighbor's house. Opening the screen door, he searched urgently for his mother. The room was crowded and stuffy, cigarette smoke hung heavily in the air. He located Dawn and sidled up to her side, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible. He hated attention being drawn to himself. Ryan tugged at her shirtsleeve.

"Mom, I don't feel so good" he whispered.

"O.K. Honey, be there in a minute"

"But Mom, my head hurts real bad"

"Like I said Honey, I'll be one minute. Just got to finish up this game. I'm winning big Kiddo!"

She gave him a distracted smile and went back to the card game. A scruffy, unshaven man glanced at the source of the interruption, whilst taking a swig of beer.

"Beat it kid. We're busy"

Ryan cast his eyes sideways at the guy, and then, defeated, left quietly. He returned to the front porch and slumped down. He had begun to shiver despite the 90-degree heat. All he wanted to do was shut his sore eyes and sleep. He dragged himself up and into the house, stumbling wearily to the couch, where he fell into an uneasy slumber.

"Ryan? Ryan, wake up!"

Ryan felt his body being shaken roughly.

"Come on Ryan, what's with you?"

Trey noticed the flushed cheeks and the damp forehead. He shook his younger brother with more urgency now.

"Hey bro', wake up. You're scaring me now."

Ryan forced himself to open his eyes. The light from the table lamp forced him to close them again quickly. He moaned in pain.

"Feel real sick Trey.... eyes hurt...head hurts..."

"Its' OK Ry'. I'll get Mom"

He stroked Ryan's forehead reassuringly but looked around desperately. Where was his god damned mother anyway? She was never where she should be. Poor kid, how long had he been like this?

Thankfully for Trey, Jim arrived home at this point. Trey had never been so glad to see his father; this level of responsibility was distressing for him.

"Dad, Ryan's sick"

A quick glance at the child confirmed Trey's desperate words.

"Get your mother" Jim yelled grimly and raced into the bathroom.

Tearing everything from the cabinet, he searched desperately for some liquid Tylenol. He slammed the door in frustration when realizing his search was fruitless. What sort of family were they, with young kids in the house and no medication in stock for emergencies? He cursed his wife under his breath. He could guess where she'd been all day, drinking and playing Blackjack across the street. That woman really didn't deserve kids. Trey and Ryan didn't deserve her as a mother.

Jim put plan B into operation, running a lukewarm bath in a bid to try and bring Ryan's soaring body temperature down. He ran back into the living room and stripped his feverish son of his clothes. Gently, he carried him back to the bath and cradled him like a baby as he lifted him into the water. Ryan whimpered as the water engulfed his body. His frantic father sponged him down repeatedly.

Dawn and Trey raced through the house until they located Jim and Ryan.

"My God, he told me he was sick, I didn't think it was that serious."

She was frantic, wild eyed and disheveled, the alcohol on her breath noticeable to all. Jim looked at her with disgust but didn't reply. He knew, and she knew, Ryan never wasted words. If he told her he was sick, then he was sick.

Jim pushed past her rudely and grabbed a blanket from Ryan's bed.

"We need to get him to the hospital, and fast"

Between them Jim and Trey dried Ryan roughly and wrapped him in the blanket. Dawn looked on, becoming hysterical.

By the time they reached the Emergency Room, Ryan was ranting deliriously. He was rushed through the waiting crowd, the usual medley of sports injuries, vagrants and drunks, and was seen by a doctor immediately. The three older Atwood's looked on helplessly and waited.


	5. Chapter Five

Thanks for all the great reviews. I'll do my best to make the chapters longer as requested, although that will probably just mean the story finishes sooner! Please keep reading and reviewing....

Chapter Five 

He looked so small and vulnerable as he lay in the cot, an IV line attached to his arm and a thin sheet covering the lower half of his body. His breathing was shallow and labored as his body fought the infection. Trey slept in a chair beside him, the older boy exhausted by the trauma of the day's events. Dawn and Jim, in a rare moment of togetherness, stood outside the hospital entrance smoking a shared cigarette. Early morning outside the Emergency Room was a grim place to be, the desperate families of the sick patients calling other worried relatives on cell phones or satisfying their craving for nicotine or just here as a break from the terrifying reality inside. Ryan's parents stood motionless as the sun began to rise. They didn't speak. They both knew the bottom line, in more ways than one. Ryan's temperature was dangerously high and their medical insurance had expired three months previously.

Jim threw the cigarette butt onto the ground and stamped it out roughly. Wordlessly he and Dawn walked back into the hospital and back to Ryan's room. The doctor in charge of Ryan's case looked up from the chart he was studying and smiled at both parents. He always felt grateful when he could tell just one desperate family in a shift that their loved one would be fine. He informed the Atwood's that Ryan's temperature had fallen slightly and that while Ryan had a particularly nasty infection, it could easily be contained with the antibiotics and that he should be feeling much better in a couple of days. Jim looked down at his sleeping children and sighed with relief.

Jim's initial relief that Ryan was going to be OK was quickly replaced by his other worry. Medical bills were never cheap and added to their already precarious financial situation; he knew they were in big trouble. He didn't even bother to share his concerns with Dawn. His wife was a disaster waiting to happen. Even now, with her son sick in the hospital he knew she was nipping out regularly to feed her alcoholism. How had he not noticed her sliding into this state? He blamed himself, always working and not being there more often for her and the kids. But what could he do? They needed every penny he earnt and a kid who never even graduated was never going to be earning the big bucks.

After nearly a week in hospital Ryan was allowed home. Physically he had bounced back to health in the way only kids do, but the nurses looking after him had commented amongst themselves that while he was recovering well physically, there were some issues which raised questions and worried them.

They had noted that both he and his brother, who had barely left his side since he arrived, appeared slightly undernourished and rather pale for two boys being brought up in the Californian sunshine. Ryan was also very reticent to speak, mumbling almost inaudibly in answer to their questions. He rarely offered a preference when asked to choose between meals or an activity on the children's ward as if he was unsure how people would react if he made the wrong choice.

His relationship with his mother was also causing them some concern. Whilst she seemed attentive and concerned, it was obvious the woman had alcohol dependency problems. She would often appear shaky and nervous, as if she was desperate for a hit. At other times she would be aggressive and unreasonable. Ryan seemed extremely wary of her, not frightened exactly but not comfortable. He certainly never smiled when she was around. In fact they couldn't recall him smiling much at all. He seemed happiest in the company of his father, but after the first couple of days, Mr. Atwood wandered around the hospital with a permanent look of concern on his face and seemed distracted from the needs of his young son. The other brother, Trey, was fiercely protective of his sibling and watched over him whenever anyone came in to examine him or question him.

The nurses had already checked for signs of physical abuse on Ryan's body but were relieved to find nothing. There were no tell tale bruises or marks to suggest the boy was being hurt. However, they were beginning to suspect that Dawn, as the main carer for the boys, was severely neglecting them. The older boy certainly showed signs of neglect. His hair was unkempt and his clothes ill fitting and unwashed.

When they mentioned their concerns to Ryan's doctor he had felt that there was not enough evidence to warrant contacting social services, especially as he knew a hundred families like this kid's and knew very little could change, despite people's best intentions. These kids had a way of dragging themselves up despite their circumstances, only to repeat the same abuse on their own children when they themselves became adults. Abusive patterns of behavior were very hard to break, not impossible but hard none the less. Besides this, the doctor was at the end of a twenty hour shift and a ninety five hour week. He just couldn't deal with the amount of paperwork it would involve. He felt a fleeting twinge of guilt. Was he letting this child down? Was this the one chance this kid had of escaping an abusive home life? The young doctor made a quick decision to jot down some confidential notes in Ryan's file, just in case anything else should show up in the future. It couldn't do any harm.


	6. Chapter Six

Thanks again for the wonderful reviews and the constructive criticism.

  
Chapter Six

With Ryan comfortably settled on the couch, TV remote in hand, Jim went through to the kitchen and sat down at the cluttered table. Two weeks of mail had accumulated in the time they had spent at the hospital, mail that Jim didn't want to think about too much, mail that was most likely full of bills and final demands that he wouldn't be able to pay.

During the last fortnight, Jim had returned home very infrequently, not liking to leave Dawn alone at the hospital for too long. She was really trying to make a change in her life, shaken by what could have happened to Ryan as a result of her drinking. But Jim knew this would be an uphill battle and one that she would probably ultimately lose.

Dawn had been such an attractive, fun loving and caring girl when he had first met her. He had loved being with her every minute of every day. He hadn't been able to believe that she'd accepted that offer of a date way back in ninth grade. He had been admiring her from afar for so many months but never quite had the courage to speak to her. Then fate had dealt him a good hand (or so he thought at the time) and they had ended up sitting together in an English class.

She had fallen for his understated humor and his expressive blue eyes. High School had been great because he got to spend all day, every day with her, not to mention the nights when they spent endless hours making out in his beat up old car. Neither of them had slept with anyone before and they tentatively entered a sexual relationship together. When Dawn fell pregnant he felt guilty and that he had let them both down, even though they were both equally responsible. She had seemed so fragile from then on. Gone was the carefree girl he had fallen in love with.

Jim knew that the daily monotony and sheer grind of being a teenage mother had driven Dawn to seek some form of escape. She had found it in the bottle and he had been too slow to realize. Now it was too late to save her. This would always be her demon, even if she managed to stay clean for a few weeks, months even.

He looked helplessly at the pile of paperwork in front of him and sighed heavily. He would have to deal with this later; he needed to change for work.

Jim had not been to work since Ryan had first fallen sick. His manager, Mike, had been very understanding, having young kids of his own. He had insisted that Jim take as much time as he needed and promised him that he would drop his wages round to him. Mike had suspected that Jim Atwood's home life was not easy. Little comments here and there and the fact that he never went out drinking with the rest of the guys after work suggested that money was tighter in the Atwood household than most, even in this area of Fresno, where no one was exactly well off. He had once called round to ask if Jim was interested in a Sunday shift and he still remembered his shock at the state of the place. The younger child, Ryan, had barely acknowledged him, shrinking behind the wall when his mother yelled at him to get his father. This was such a contrast to his own kids, who would leap on any visitor, eager to know the reason for their visit.

Jim didn't want to take advantage of Mike's kindness and so he informed Dawn that he was heading straight back to work. She looked up and smiled brightly, a tight forced smile that revealed her inner turmoil. Three days without a drink and it was killing her.

Jim poked his head round the living room door to say goodbye to Trey and Ryan. They were snuggled up together on the couch watching the cartoon channel. Ryan looked reproachfully at Jim when he told them he had to work. Trey just looked back at the TV, a distance forming between himself and the rest of the world. Things were back to normal now, Dad working, Mom would soon be drunk and Trey would be left to pick up the pieces. The brief hiatus of family togetherness at the hospital was over. Real life began again.

As soon as Jim arrived at the cement works, he headed straight for the office to clock in. As he approached, he saw Mike glance at him uneasily and get up from his desk. Jim felt a stab of apprehension in his gut.

They met at the door. Mike looked embarrassed and couldn't look him in the eye.

"I'm sorry Jim. I'm gonna have to let you go," he muttered.

"Wha what?" Jim tripped over his words.

"I'm so sorry. I hate to do this to you, with your sick kid and all, but..."

"But I need this job. The doctor's bills, my rent. How am I gonna cope? I have two kids to support man"

"The company's not doing well Jim, we've been laying people off all week. I wish I could say different, really I do." He shook his head sadly.

Jim charged out of the office in a fury. He punched the wall in frustration and then crumbled to the ground in despair.


	7. Chapter Seven

  
  
Just to say, I know nothing about purchasing guns in America so forgive me if the gun purchasing scene is unrealistic! Also I don't know if Bailiffs are called Bailiffs in America but in England they come and take away your belongings if you owe money. I'll happily change it if it's the wrong word! Thanks for reading this story and for bothering to review. I've loved writing it and am itching to write another, although I don't have any ideas! Feel happier with back stories as I don't think I could write witty dialogue for Seth.

Chapter Seven

Now, six months later, he stood in his living room, wife well on her way to alcoholic oblivion, older son out roaming the streets doing God only knew what. Despite a new, albeit lower paid job which he worked at twelve hours a day, six days a week, they were three months behind in the rent and had defaulted on the payment plan set up by the hospital after Ryan was discharged. He had been told to expect the bailiffs any day now and there was not a shit thing he could do about it. He kicked off his boots and headed for bed.

The grim light of a Fresno morning forced him awake. He had slept badly, like every other night recently. Despite the physical exhaustion, which racked his body, his mind would just keep on going, turning over idea after fruitless idea to get themselves out of this mess. More often than not, when he did sleep, he would wake up shaking with fear, drenched in sweat. He couldn't escape, even in his dreams.

He stumbled through to the living room to find Ryan sitting silently on the couch watching cartoons. He looked at his father questioningly, eyes heavy with sleep and bed head hair.

"Where's Trey?" asked his father.

"Out" replied Ryan without bothering to look up again, as he returned to the cartoon.

Jim sighed. When had Trey deliberately started to withdraw himself from family life, if you could call Atwood life family life? Was it when the arguments and the fights had started? Jim would be accusing Dawn of pouring money down her throat while she would retaliate that it went up in smoke, alluding to Jim's one vice. Had Trey retreated from them when Dawn had given up all pretence of being a mother?

Trey had had enough of watching his mother neglect the home, neglect herself and him, but most of all Ryan. Trey was old enough to take care of himself, but Ryan was too young to fend for himself. He still needed a Mom, a Mom who would clean his knee when he fell over, cuddle him when he cried, read him bed time stories. This poor kid was lucky if he got one square meal a day.

Jim sat down heavily, totally defeated. How had he not noticed the effect of the last few months on his sons? He'd been so busy trying to keep the house of cards that was their precarious finances from collapsing, that he had failed to notice that Trey had begun to hang out with the wrong crowd and that Ryan, always the quiet watchful one, had totally withdrawn into himself as he tried to make sense of the crazy world he was growing up in.

Jim forced himself away from his thoughts and went into the kitchen. He cleaned up yesterday's debris and prepared some cereal for himself and Ryan. They sat eating the last of the budget cornflakes at the table in silence. Ryan barely lifted his head as he finished his cereal, picked up the empty bowl to put in the sink and returned wordlessly, with his Spiderman figure in hand, to the couch.

Jim washed and shaved and told Ryan that he would return later after work. The little boy nodded and continued to stare at the TV screen. Dawn emerged, disheveled, from the bedroom. Her eyes were bloodshot and her skin pale and dull.

"I'm off to work," he announced sharply.

She wrapped her robe around herself tightly and looked Jim in the eyes.

"I'm sorry," she mouthed.

Ryan watched from the couch, hugging his knees to his chest as he prepared for another long day without his father.

As Jim let himself in to the Atwood home that evening, something felt different, wrong. He walked through the kitchen to the living room. The place was in darkness but there, huddled on the floor together sat his family. His eyes swept round. There was nothing left, no couch, no TV, no lamps, nothing. They'd even taken the tatty little armchair in the corner. Ryan looked up at Jim with sad reproachful eyes.

"They took my Spiderman toys..."

A switch tripped in Jim Atwood's head. He ran blindly into the bedroom. Tearing through what was left in the closet, he found a small package he had hidden from Dawn just a few days previously. Inside was two hundred dollars, money she knew nothing about, money that he had earnt from an extra job he had picked up from one of the contractors.

He made his way down town, barely aware of his actions. He could just get there in time before it closed.

Later that night Jim slipped out of his home unnoticed, as his wife and kids lay sleeping in their near empty home. With the revolver in his pocket, he headed straight for the all night opening convenience store in the center of town. He took a deep breath before he stepped over the threshold. He needed money and he needed it quick. He knew what he had to do.

Ryan Atwood's mother had let him down his whole life.

Ryan Atwood's father had never let him down.

Until now.

The End


End file.
